


The Case of the Missing Socks

by LegoLock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cat Mannerism, Fluff, M/M, Socks, cat!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegoLock/pseuds/LegoLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock the feline detective is missing his person...there's only one thing to do to show his feline displeasure. Steal John's socks!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Missing Socks

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for panicatrivendell for the Exchangelock Christmas gift exchange on tumblr! I hope this is okay and I hope you like it, you did ask for a surprise. It kind of just came to me when I watched my cat steal my socks for no apparent reason (honestly I have no idea why she does it!)

John rummaged through his drawers, frowning at the distinct lack of socks. He could have sworn he'd put at least half a dozen in at the beginning of the week when he'd done the laundry. This was the third time that month that his sock drawer seemed to be lacking all the socks. After a few more seconds of digging, John managed to find a mismatched pair, at the very bottom of the drawer, that would suffice for the day. One was a shorter sort of sock with a hideous freckling of orange and blue spots on the toes, the other was a nauseating shade of grey and rose well above his ankle.

The blonde doctor shook his head and wondered if his flatmate was experiencing the same odd occurrence with missing socks. Maybe they had a pest problem, but John had never heard of mice making away with just socks and nothing more. John gathered his coat as he descended the steps to join his already awake, probably never slept, companion.

“Sherlock, have you noticed the socks have been missing lately?” John asked as he breezed into the kitchen where Sherlock was perched in a chair, eyes fixed to whatever was on the slide of his microscope.

The lanky detective looked up from his experiment, his hair in disarray around his almost too large feline ears, each tipped with curling black tufts to match his unkempt mane. His long black tail twisted around his chair as he gazed over at John with an odd expression, like being asked about socks being missing was the strangest thing that could happen in 221B.

“No.” Sherlock said after a careful moment of thought, glancing to his own feet, which were rather bare just then. “But then again, I find socks to be rather a waste of time on occasion. I haven't worn them lately. Testing a theory.” He mumbled, as if that was all the explanation John needed.

The blonde man sighed, “Right...of course. Don't know why I even asked...” He muttered as he grabbed a quick cup of coffee and headed for the door. “I'm going to be late tonight, filling in at the clinic!” John said, giving the feline detective a heads up in case Sherlock wondered where he was. Sherlock didn't respond, just grunting and flicking his tail as he resumed staring into his microscope for answers to questions on he could think of. “Behave.” John called out as he left, leaving Sherlock to his thoughts in the empty flat.

The lanky man waited until he was certain John was well down the street, ears perked and eyes fixed on the door expectantly, before he dared to move away from his pseudo-experiment. There was nothing on the slide, it was all just a convincing way to keep John from poking around the flat too much. Sherlock quickly scrawled a note to John and left it sitting on the table, it would suffice as a last minute deflection if the man returned unexpectedly. The feline man hopped off his chair with a near silent thump, a tiny mewl escaping his careful control. It was that kind of meow house cats made when their beloved people left the house, leaving their feline family members to wonder if they'd return each day or not.

It was a sound the detective hated to admit he made, because it meant he missed John dearly when he went away (even though the detective knew John would return). The first time John had left Sherlock alone without warning...the feline man had spent hours padding around the flat and making that horribly desperate noise until he'd heard John return! Sherlock had happily greeted the man with purring and nuzzling. Naturally, John never heard the sound...but he seemed to realize he needed to mention to his feline companion when he was going to be away. Sherlock's feline nature needed that unchanging stability to feel comfortable and safe.

Even thought John now made a point of letting Sherlock know where he was going and how long he'd be away, the lanky man still felt the urge to call after him with those pitiful sounding meows. And, like the house cat that missed his person, Sherlock did the only thing he could think to do. _He stole John's socks_. Who knew why, but felines had a fascination with taking socks. Sherlock, though he claimed to be above baser things, was no less feline in that sense. It was a compulsion to take them as some sort of means to express his loneliness. A means to stop John leaving him alone.

Somewhere in his feline brain, he believed that if John had no socks...he would have to stay home! John would have to stay and pet Sherlock's ears the way he liked or scratch the base of his tail. He'd have to help the detective find the mysterious red dot that came and went without explanation, a dot that Sherlock could never seem to catch no matter how man times he crept up on it!

Damn that red dot! Sherlock's tail lashed and he hissed faintly at the thought of it. He considered it to be one of his greatest nemesis to date. However, this was no about the red dot...not today...not for the past few weeks.

The feline detective padded quietly to his room, tail curling around his feet as he pushed open the door and slipped within. He didn't bother latching the door, wanting to be able to hear John arrive later, just easing it mostly closed as he stared at his lumpy looking bed. It was full of John's socks and his own. They smelled of whatever laundry detergent John used, which was a relief since Sherlock didn't feel he would have envied taking them otherwise. Sherlock didn't have any particular reason for taking the socks, other than they were John's and he was upset and missed John.

The detective's ears flattened into his hair as he slowly crawled under the covers and nestled amongst his nest of assorted socks, purring sadly and mewing quietly. He knew it was all irrational, he knew John would return, and he knew John would eventually find out where his socks had been going. He'd return them before John found out (this time) and the process would start all over again in a few weeks. Sherlock curled up with a heavy sigh, he'd return them after a little cat nap...

 

* * *

 

By the time John returned from work, it was very late. All the lights were still on, which was hardly a surprise to John anymore, and Sherlock appeared to be gone. John checked his phone, but there was no messages. A quick sweep of the flat resulted in the finding of a hastily written note that proclaimed Sherlock was going out to investigate some manner of case from _Gavin_.

John couldn't help but chuckle, “It's Greg, you surly old tom cat.” He murmured and sighed, he turned to head up to his room, but paused as he noticed Sherlock's bedroom door was closed.

The tired doctor could honestly say he'd never seen the feline detective close his door frequently. There were a handful of times, the latest of which had involved a rather large bag of catnip. John still wasn't sure where the detective had gotten that much, nor was he certain Sherlock had given him all of it. He was torn between checking the room and going to his own to rest. Sherlock could be back, he supposed, and could have just forgotten about the note.

Slowly, the blonde doctor started towards the mostly shut door. Sherlock didn't often go to bed before John got home...in fact, he never did. John had to all but force the man to sleep on some occasions. As he drew nearer, he was able to make out the faintest sound of quiet purrs and soft meows. Meows that tugged at John's heartstrings...

As John finally reached the door, he eased it open with a rather noticeable creak...causing the purring to cease instantly.

“John?” Sherlock's voice was surprised, but pleased. “I...didn't hear you come in...” His voice coming from under the blankets piled over him like a rather comfortable looking cocoon.

John lingered in the threshold, watching the blankets shift enough for Sherlock to pop his face free. Only just enough showing to cause his eyes to reflect like bright pools of silver.

“Um...I...thought you might be sleeping...was trying to be quiet.”

The glowing orbs blinked and then vanished, the blankets shuffling quickly like the detective was trying to hide something hurriedly. “No. No! Just thinking about the...uh...the socks.”

John stepped a bit further into the room, “Sherlock...I know it's not my business...but, if that's more cat nip—”

Sherlock straightened up abruptly, “I do not have any more _cat nip_!” The blankets shooting up with the irritated detective, revealing a lashing tail...and a pair of socks John knew rather well.

The blonde man stared a moment, then slowly moved over to tug the blanket away from his feline companion...staring silently at the lanky fellow surrounded by a veritable nest of socks! Well, he supposed he finally knew what was happening to them. He wanted to ask for some kind of clarification, but this was hardly the strangest thing his feline counterpart had ever done.

“Well...as long as you don't shed on them...” John mumbled, finding it incredibly hard to be mad at Sherlock when he looked so adorable sitting in a pile of socks with his ears flattened and cheeks blushing bright red. The blond man reached over to scratch behind one of the detective’s ears, smiling gently as the man began to purr.

“So, you had a theory about socks?”

 

 


End file.
